


come hell or high water

by cacowhistle



Series: ad astra per aspera [6]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: little bonus scene from mnemosyne that i wanted to expand on, no beta we die like these two will when they go to fight dream, the boys finally talk!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:20:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28740129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacowhistle/pseuds/cacowhistle
Summary: When he’s offered the chance to escape, even for just one night, with Ranboo and Techno and Phil, he seizes on it like a stranded man being offered salvation. They make their trek through the Nether, then to Technoblade’s cottage out in the woods, and Tubbo will forever be grateful for this kindness he’s been offered--despite the way Techno shifts uncomfortably and gives him sidelong glances, Tubbo feels safe. This is an uneasy alliance being formed, and Tubbo will take as much as he can get from the Blade.When they arrive, the first thing Tubbo notices is that Wilbur is there, and he is alive.That is entirely forgotten when he sees Tommy standing there in the snow.
Relationships: Tommyinnit & Tubbo
Series: ad astra per aspera [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060727
Comments: 25
Kudos: 388





	come hell or high water

Tubbo may not be a sailor anymore, but he was once, and the salt of the sea will forever be in his blood. It’s taught him a great many things--responsibility, reliability, adaptability. It has taught him to change, to overcome, to be resilient and confident and ever-changing. It has taught him to be fluid, like the tides.

It has taught him to never put down roots, for the tide will only come in to sweep the sand out from under him.

So he doesn’t. L’manburg rises and he does not make himself a home. He travels with Tommy until L’manburg wraps its fingers around his throat and tears the little vagabond from his metaphorical ship, binding him to the pier and anchoring him to shore. Tubbo still does not make a home, instead sleeps and stores his things in the houses of friends. He is always moving, a constantly shifting and changing force.

Tubbo is an entire raging ocean, confined to land, and he’s helpless as it tears his best friend away from him.

He is backed into corners, forced to make decisions he does not want to make. Adapt, be responsible, be reliable, and he does. He does what he needs to do to keep this nation safe, and he hates every minute of it.

Tubbo is not meant for stuffy suits and politics. He aches for simpler days on the sea, wind in his hair and dangling from the rigging, much to the Captain’s disdain.

(And that’s another thing, how much he misses the Captain. He sees Phil ruffle Ghostbur’s hair, sees the way he smiles at Tommy, and something in his chest _hurts,_ something painful and lost, something that _aches_ and longs for a father long-gone.)

When he’s offered the chance to escape, even for just one night, with Ranboo and Techno and Phil, he seizes on it like a stranded man being offered salvation. They make their trek through the Nether, then to Technoblade’s cottage out in the woods, and Tubbo will forever be grateful for this kindness he’s been offered--despite the way Techno shifts uncomfortably and gives him sidelong glances, Tubbo feels safe. This is an uneasy alliance being formed, and Tubbo will take as much as he can get from the Blade.

When they arrive, the first thing Tubbo notices is that Wilbur is there, and he is alive.

That is entirely forgotten when he sees Tommy standing there in the snow.

There is a silence hanging over his shoulders, thousands of unspoken words wanting to spill out only for none to break free. He can’t think past the sheer relief--he’s alive, thank the _gods_ \--and already, there are tears.

Tommy moves first, starts sprinting towards him and Tubbo doesn’t hesitate a moment more, rushing to meet him in the middle, clinging to him so tightly his fingers are practically numb. Tommy is shaking so hard Tubbo’s almost afraid he’s going to fall apart in his arms, a choked noise that almost sounds like a sob sounding by his ear, and Tubbo just clings closer as though his life depends on it.

He isn’t sure how long they stand there in the snow, clinging to each other as though they’re the only ones that matter in the entire world (and maybe they are, Tubbo thinks to himself).

Tommy pulls him by the arm down to the basement, shuts the door behind them to keep out the cold. The two of them sit there on the bed, Tommy cross-legged and Tubbo with his legs dangling off the side, breathing unsteady and the silence weighing heavier as they wait to see who breaks first.

“I’m sorry,” Tubbo finally croaks, and Tommy reaches out to grip his hand, before hesitating and pulling away.

“No, I’m--” he swallows, ducking his head, “I’m sorry too, I…”

He trails off, which is an unusual sight for TommyInnit, and Tubbo can’t help the worry and anxiety that twists in his chest. He hasn’t seen him in so long. He’s still Tommy, but so much has changed. He holds himself differently, here, fur-lined cloak draped over one shoulder, adorned in blue and white and red and gold.

They’re quiet for a few minutes. Tubbo reaches out and takes Tommy’s hand, despite how he flinches away. He savors the contact, the simple fact that Tommy is here with him.

“I shouldn’t have exiled you,” Tubbo says, miserably. Tommy shakes his head.

“No, you were--it’s--I get why you did it.”

“I still shouldn’t have,” he murmurs. Tommy shrugs.

“Can’t change the past.” He glances away. “... m’happy here, anyways.”

Tubbo tries not to think of the implications. He manages to smile, and knows that it doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s nice,” he agrees, voice soft.

They fall into an uneasy silence, again. Tubbo breaks it after a few moments.

“Wilbur’s alive?”

Tommy’s shoulders tense, but he nods, slowly. Tubbo can see the anxious tap of his fingers against the mattress, the glance he shoots towards the hatch that seems to lead upstairs. Tubbo remembers nightmares whispered about in the caverns of Pogtopia, explosions and cold hands and scary, unhinged laughter. His hands curl into fists, and he ducks into Tommy’s line of sight.

“I can fight him if you need me to.”

Tommy barks out a laugh, at that. “No, Jesus Christ, Tubbo, no, what the fuck? I--he isn’t--what the fuck--”

“Just figured I would offer,” Tubbo says, feeling awfully pleased now that he’s drawn out that shrieking cackle he hasn’t heard in so long.

“He’d kick your ass, anyways.” Tommy swats at his shoulder. Tubbo grins.

“I bet I could take him down,” he teases.

They settle back into silence, less uneasy, this time. There’s something peaceful about it, something softer and kinder. There are still things to be said, conversations to be had--Tubbo does not know where they stand, now. People have been hurt, he has done things he regrets, Tommy has done things as well. It isn’t something one conversation will fix.

But it is a beginning. And Tubbo is going to cling to this fragile thing they have, come hell or high water.

“Once I get away from the presidency,” Tubbo starts, voice soft as he looks up at Tommy, “I want to go sailing.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. Tubbo leans against his shoulder. “Would you go with me?”

He doesn’t have to see Tommy’s face to know how his eyes will widen. There is an awful moment of hesitation where Tubbo is afraid he’ll say no, where he will be repaid the treatment he has given his best friend for the past few weeks. And then--

“Of course I would. I’d go with you anywhere, dumbass.”

Tubbo giggles, at that.

“Good,” he says, reaching for Tommy’s hand again. Tommy squeezes it in return. “That’s what we’ll do, then.”

“Sounds like a plan, big man.”

There is still work to be done. There will be arguments, conflict, messy apologies and tearful resolutions and words that are not meant and words that are. It will take time to repair the damage done, but the storm, at least, has passed.

Hell or high water.

He will not let him go again.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr & also like twitter and twitch ig since im gonna start using those more @ cacowhistle i post updates and dream smp stuff


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